


Slut

by Medeafic



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Barebacking, Butt Plugs, Crying, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Facials, Filming, Humiliation, M/M, Marking, Painplay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Slut Shaming, Toys, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-08 00:05:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1919214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medeafic/pseuds/Medeafic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the <a href="http://pintokinkmeme.livejournal.com">Pinto kink meme</a>. The prompt: Chris and Zach are at a party where Chris has had too much to drink and he's getting handsy with everyone - he's a tactile guy after all. When they get back, Zach calls Chris out on it, leading to the slut-shaming, which, it turns out, Chris gets off on. Rough sex ensues.</p>
<p>PLEASE read the warnings, and note that this really is unabashed PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slut

They manage to make it back to Zach’s apartment, all the way into Zach's bedroom, before they argument begins.

“You don’t look happy,” Chris says with a grin, and all it does is make Zach want to wipe it off his face. Things have been difficult lately. Well, if Zach’s going to be honest about it, not _lately_. Things have _always_ been difficult. Press work, paparazzi, living bi-coastal, shooting in Germany, in New Zealand, theatre in New York, TV cameos…

Chris is getting worse, though, when they go out together. He doesn’t care who might have a phone aimed at them, or what club they’re at. It’s alright when he’s stone cold sober, and he’s hitting on women like it’s his job (it kind of is, after all—keep the press machine fed with the Right Stories). That’s fine; Zach can handle that, because he knows the second they’re away from prying eyes he can tear off Chris’s clothes and get balls-deep in him within five minutes.

Chris is kind of needy that way, always wanting it. He’s kind of…kind of a slut, Zach admits to himself. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, and really it works in Zach’s favor, Chris so desperate for dick all the time, willing to beg for it, never sounding so happy as when he’s filled to the brim and taking a savage fuck.

But no, Zach can handle all that. It’s when Chris drinks that the problem starts. Chris drinks, and suddenly he loses interest in the ladies.

Zach’s coming to think he does it on purpose. Chris has one drink, another, one more and then next time Zach sees him, he’s draped over someone, inevitably the best looking guy in the room, grinning into their face and seeing how close he can get to kissing them before Zach’s had it and marches over to drag him away. Tonight Chris actually had his hand tucked in the waistband of some beefcake that reminded Zach of nothing so much as _Jersey Shore_.

“What is it with you?” Zach asks now, exasperated. “You’re getting yourself a reputation in this city, you know that? Every time I go out I feel like people are whispering behind my back about my slutty boyfriend.”

“Eh. I’m a cheap drunk.”

“A cheap drunk who can’t keep his hands off any hot body standing nearby.”

“Come on, I’m just having some fun. You don’t care that much, do you?”

It drives Zach completely insane, actually. “You get a few drinks in you and suddenly you’re anyone’s.”

Chris stares at him. “Am not,” he says, and a deep flush starts to spread up his neck. Well, Zach thinks. That’s interesting.

“Were you always this easy?” Zach asks.

“I can’t help it if I attract male attention, Zachary,” Chris says, and pulls off his jacket. “And I can’t help being a tactile guy.” He looks both embarrassed and intrigued. He sits on the bed to take off his shoes and socks, and Zach watches him while he toes off his own shoes.

“Tell me something,” Zach continues when Chris stands up again. “You like to think you’re good with words. Is there a male equivalent to the idea of a nymphomaniac? Or do you think that covers men as well? Because it seems the only appropriate way to describe _you_ sometimes.”

“Well, you know, man. If I were getting it at home…” It’s the cocky grin that really gets Zach going. He grabs Chris by the arm, fingers digging into his bicep.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?”

Chris turns his head to look at him, surprise lifting his eyebrows. “Hey, I’m just pointing out the obvious.” He pulls away and stretches his arms over his head to pull off his tee. He throws it at the laundry basket, and it lands perfectly.

Zach moves like a viper and grabs Chris’s wrists, twists them behind his back, and propels him face-forward into the wall. He presses his lips against Chris’s ear.

“How the fuck,” Zach says slowly, enunciating each word, “am I supposed to keep a slut like _you_ —” He pauses to appreciate the widening of Chris’s eyes. “ _Satisfied?_ ”

The only response is a gasping noise.

“Huh?” Zach presses. “You suddenly lost your voice? Since when did that whore mouth of yours have nothing to say?”

Chris has been rigid in Zach’s grasp, but now he sags, moaning, against the wall. “Sorry,” he whispers.

“Oh, there’s no point apologizing, baby. I know you can’t help yourself.” Zach licks up the side of his face. He tastes salty and bitter and so, so good. “You just gotta get dick into you any way you can. Right?”

“Right,” Chris whispers.

“You can’t help being such a nasty little slut. You need it. You gotta be filled up regularly.”

“Yeah,” Chris says, his voice hoarse. He swallows. “God, yeah. Yeah, I do. Please, Zach—”

Zach releases him and steps back, shaking his head. “Jesus, Chris,” he says sadly. “Have some self-respect, man. I barely even have to touch you and you’re begging for it.”

Chris turns and begins a slow slide down the wall. His face is a picture of hunger, but also distress, his eyes faintly pink and glistening. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Sorry,” he says again.

“Stop saying that,” Zach tells him, irritation in his tone. “You’re not sorry. You say you’re sorry every time you act like this and then you go out and do it all over again. And every time you do I give in, and I exhaust myself fucking you, and it’s never enough. Never. I can’t even begin to _imagine_ what it would take.”

Chris has reached the floor now, his legs bent up and sagging apart. His pants pull tight over his crotch, and underneath his fly clearly defined, is the outline of his erect cock. Zach takes a step forward and kicks Chris’s legs down so that they flop out in front of him, spread wide. Zach raises the ball of his foot, and shuffles his heel forward slowly, deliberately, until his toes press down on Chris’s balls.

Chris groans.

“I’ve got my foot on your ballsack and you’re about to go off like a geyser. How does someone even get like that, Chris? Huh? Exactly how many dicks does someone have to suck, how many do they have to stuff in every hole, before they reach this level of Pavlovian reaction?”

“I--I don't know.”

“You’ve lost _count?_ ” Zach says with disbelief.

“Zach,” he whispers, and he does have tears in his eyes now, definitely, glinting like dewdrops in the corners of his eyes.

“Zach, what?”

“Zach, I only want you. I only ever want you.”

“But that’s what makes it so sad, because what can _I_ possibly do with such a dirty little slut?”

A tear gathers, brims on his waterline and then slips down Chris’s cheek. “I’m sorry. I’ll be good,” he whispers, and Zach can hardly hear him. He takes his foot off Chris’s balls and crouches between his legs. Zach catches the tear on the pad of his forefinger and touches it thoughtfully to his tongue. Delicious.

“I’ll be good for you, I promise,” Chris says, louder now. “I know it’s—it’s wrong. There’s something wrong with me. I know I’m just a…”

Zach ignores him. “All those poor guys at the club you leave hard in their jeans. See, for a while I thought that maybe you get off on being a cocktease, but I don’t think that’s it. I think you get yourself just as worked up and leave just as frustrated. You’d take them all on if you could, set up a gangbang.” He takes Chris’s face in one hand, gripping behind the hinges of his jaw. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“No! No, I don’t want them. Just you.”

“Just me? I can only fill you up so much, Chris. You want far more than I could ever give you. You want fucking _gallons_ of it, splashing around inside you."

“Oh, God,” Chris says faintly, and for a moment he looks beatific. “You could—you could—”

“I could what?”

“You could whore me out,” he says in a rush. “Maybe.”

“Oh, baby,” Zach says, an eternity of sadness in his voice. He cups Chris’s face with his hand. “This is how I know your apologies never mean anything: because we always end up back here, back with your endless need to have a hot dick in your hole.”

Chris flushes all over now, his face pink and his chest and shoulders mottled red. He ducks his head.

“There’s something desperate inside of you. And you want me to tell you it’s okay? To make money off you, let anyone use you for a few dollars? I couldn’t do that. You’d get so fucked out, baby, it’d be no fun for _me_ any more.” Chris mumbles something. “What? What is it?”

Chris looks up again, a little crease between his brows, and his eyes closed tight. He forces the words out. “I could just, you know…”

“No. I don’t know.”

“I could…suck. Just use my mouth. That wouldn’t make me…”

“Wouldn’t make your hole all loose and sloppy,” Zach finishes for him. He gets in close, pulling Chris’s face up. “Look at me.”

“Can’t,” he says, and he screws his eyes shut.

“Of course not. You’re embarrassed, and you should be, you filthy little slut. Listen to what you’re asking me to do. Pimp you out, let anyone who wants to use your mouth, expose you to disease, danger—expose _myself_ to it too—just because you can’t get enough cock in you? What kind of degenerate asks for that?”

Chris is quivering in his hands, burning to the touch. Zach’s never seen him quite like this before. He seems shaken to the core by the combination of his humiliation and his need.

He sighs. “Maybe…” he says, and Chris’s eyes pop open, scared but hopeful, and the terror and trust he’s showing are making Zach hot. _Really_ hot. “Maybe there’s something we can do. Because you know I love you, right? I love you, even though you’re nothing but a sick, perverted little whore.”

“I know,” Chris chokes out. “I know, and I don’t deserve it, I’m just a—”

“Shh, baby.” Zach pulls him in for a hug. “It’s okay. You’re okay. But I can’t let you go out and fuck around like you want to. I’m not okay with that. It wouldn’t be good for you, and you might get roughed up by someone in a back alley. They might not want to wait till you’re used to the size of their dick, working its way inside you, and maybe they’d hurt you.”

“Maybe they’d slap me around and tell me to take it,” Chris whispers, arching his neck up. Zach’s fingers are pressing harder into his throat. Chris’s pulse is thrumming fast and steady.

“Right, now you’re getting the picture. They might mess up your face, and we can’t have that happening, baby, not to such a pretty face.”

For a moment, Chris looks disappointed. But then he gives a slight nod. “Yeah, I get it.”

“But I know what you need,” Zach purrs. “I know exactly what a greedy little cum slut like you needs. Maybe you have a point, baby. Maybe I could do more to make sure you stay filled up.”

Chris whimpers.

“Would you like that?” Zach asks, and gives Chris the sweetest smile he can muster at this point.

“Yeah. Please.”

“I like it when you ask like that, politely. But ask again. Make me believe what you said before, that you think I really can satisfy you. Because I’ll try, baby, but oh—” He lets Chris’s throat go and runs a thumb over his forever-chapped lips. “Oh, I’m not sure I can. You’re such a little piggy.”

“Please,” Chris explodes. He grabs Zach’s hand between his own, begging. “I know you can. I love it when you fuck me so hard it feels like I’m being impaled, like your cock’s stuffing me so full I can taste it in the back of my throat. Please, Zach.”

Zach takes a swift moment to collect himself. He doesn’t want to choke on his own tongue, after all. Not sexy for anyone involved.

He nods. “Okay. I guess we can try. Get up on the bed.”

Zach stands, looks down at him.

“You want me naked?” Chris asks.

“What do you think, slut?”

Chris jackrabbits, and in about two seconds flat he’s on the bed naked, on all fours, ass high in the air and legs spread.

Zach takes his time strolling over behind him. He wants Chris uncertain, eager, even more desperate for it than usual. Because it’s true, oh God it’s true—Chris really is kind of slutty, and Zach is hardly a stranger to promiscuity. Chris is damn lucky no photos have come out yet, because Zach happens to know that before they went exclusive, Chris Pine pretty much wore out his knees going down on guys in the quieter, darker areas of Los Angeles’ gay club scene.

But that was when he was younger. Chris is older now, and he’s faithful like a dog, Zach knows that, he really does. He really does. The problem is Chris also needs to fuck like a bitch in heat. When he’s not begging Zach for his dick, he’s whacking off in the bathroom, moaning so loud Zach’s pretty sure the whole apartment complex has heard him. Sometimes Zach comes home to find Chris on the sofa watching porn, one hand buried in his ass and the other a blur as he works himself over. At first it was disconcerting, but then it just became normal.

“You need to unload pretty regularly, baby, don’t you?” Zach asks, fondling Chris’s balls. He has a gorgeous sack, velvet-smooth and a lovely blushing pink color.

Chris moans and pushes back into his hand. “Mmhmm,” he says, pressing his face into his forearm. The backs of his shoulders are still reddened, and Zach wonders what it would be like to make him blush all over.

“You know what I think? I think we’ll try a few different things today. You don’t mind that, do you? Sluts like you love whatever they can get.”

Chris makes a choking noise.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.” Zach runs a finger down his taint, prodding as he goes. It prompts some noises from Chris that can only be called squeaks. “So as far as I can work it out, you actually have two problems: you need to get fucked hard, and you need to come. Right?”

“Right,” Chris breathes.

Zach slides open the drawer of his bedside cabinet and takes out the lube. “Here.” He presses it into Chris’s hand. “Get your hole ready for me, slut. Not too loose.”

Chris’s hand curls around the lube, but he glances back over his shoulder and says tentatively, “Can’t—can’t you?”

Zach heaves a heavy, put-upon sigh. “Seriously, man? Not only do I have to fuck you raw, I have to prep you for it too? I thought _maybe_ you could do _one_ thing, but—”

“I’ll do it, I’ll do it,” Chris says hurriedly, and splurts lube all over his fingers. He reaches behind him to rub at his hole, and Zach helps him out by spreading his ass cheeks wider.

“You must keep the lube companies in business,” he murmurs, watching Chris take in one, then two fingers. “Not too fast, baby. Give me a show. You like the attention, after all; that’s what you told me. _I can’t help it if I attract male attention._ Well, you’ve got it, slut. So make the most of it.”

Chris gives a pornstar-level groan, and starts really going for it, twisting and stretching his hole until Zach’s cock is aching for it.

“Enough,” he says roughly, and slaps Chris on one ass cheek. It leaves a pretty red handprint. Chris removes his fingers with a pitiful whine. His hole glistens invitingly.

Zach’s still clothed, and he likes the way it makes him feel, like he’s in control. Not so vulnerable as the naked whore on the bed in front of him. He pulls down his fly and gives thanks to Tom Ford that he’s wearing pants that are loose enough to pull open without a struggle.

He grabs up a handful of Chris’s generous round ass and squeezes so tight that Chris gasps. When he lets go, the site stays white for a second before blooming pink. If he could, Zach thinks, he’d mark Chris so hard that his fingerprints stood out, so there would be no doubt about whose property this particular slut was.

“You ready?” he asks.

“Yeah!”

“You feel that?” He rubs his cockhead against the hole, and it flexes against him, pouting open like a mouth that wants kissing. “You like it bare, don’t you? So you can feel it when I spray in you.”

“Yeah, come on…”

“Nah.”

“Please?” He’s testing it out, wondering if begging is what Zach’s looking for. “Please, Zach?”

Zach, it turns out, isn’t entirely sure what he’s looking for himself. But it’s not begging. It’s a start, but he wants more than that. He wants a Chris crying with humiliation, blushing furious crimson, and yet still pleading for a fuck with his guileless blue eyes wide and wet. “Sluts like you,” he says quietly, “need to learn some self-control.”

Chris slumps on the bed. “You’re right,” he says, and his voice cracks. “Sorry, Zach.”

“Will you quit apologizing?” Zach snaps, and slaps his ass.

“Ss—oh. Yeah, I…” Chris stutters into silence. Zach rubs the head of his dick over that pretty little hole again. “You’re right,” Chris says again, and he sounds more collected. “Sluts need to learn some self-control.”

With a groan, Zach breaches his hole, just the tip of his cock buried in there, and the ring of it tightens under the ridge of his head. Chris moans like he’s disappointed, and Zach chuckles.

“But you’re such a hungry little cockslut, baby. Your ass is sucking on me like my dick's a lollipop. You want some more?” Chris grunts something about self-control again, but the pressure on his dick is getting to Zach. “I guess we can worry about that later. You won’t learn your lesson in one fuck, after all. It’s going to take a long, long time for me to get your cock under control.” He thrusts home in one long, smooth slide, and the way Chris keens is music to his ears.

“Zach, I’m—I’m gonna—”

“Of course you are,” Zach says. “Of course you are. And why?”

“’Cause I’m a slut,” he whimpers.

“That’s right. Go on, then. Spill it. Mess up my bedsheets and get it over with so I can fuck you into your own slop. And while I do that, you can think about what kind of dirty tramp comes as soon as he gets a dick halfway in his ass.” He grabs Chris’s hips for purchase, pulls out and slams home, and that’s all it takes. Chris shudders and his ass clamps down on Zach’s cock and he comes, shouting, and then slumps forward. His shoulders heave as he tries to catch his breath.

Zach reaches down to grab a fistful of his hair and yanks his head up. “Get back into your position, slut. You’re so fucking selfish. Just because you came in record time doesn’t mean I did. I can hold out longer than thirty seconds, lucky for you.”

Chris is groaning and gasping for air, but he does what he’s told, or tries to, shuffling up to his knees again. He’s boneless, though, and lethargic, and it makes Zach want to hurt him, make him buck underneath him and make him—make him _pay_.

Zach starts slamming in, each thrust driving a grunt out of Chris’s mouth. He clutches Chris's hips so hard he thinks it’ll bruise, and good, _good_.

“You deserve this,” he tells Chris, panting now. His orgasm is close, but there's something else still simmering inside him. “Don’t you? Being treated like this, like all you are is a wet hole, you only have one purpose in life—”

“Yes, yes, _yes_ ,” Chris is moaning, and he’s moving now, squirming and bumping back against Zach, making the fuck harder and harder and _oh God-_

Zach erupts inside him with a howl. Every throb of his cock feels like it’s gushing another quart inside him, deep into Chris’s gut. Zach imagines it flowing through Chris like a hot river, churning and filling him up until he’s brimming with it. He collapses forward, dick still hard as he leaks out a last few dribbles. He clutches at Chris’s hand, which is bunching the sheet, and they huff and puff in tandem for a few minutes.

Chris stretches underneath him like a cat and makes a noise of deep satisfaction. “Zach, that was—that was—”

“Oh, you’re not done, baby. You’re nowhere near done. I told you, you need to learn a lesson. And you—” He pulls out, wincing at how sensitive he feels. “Yeah, you’re gonna learn it tonight.”

Chris is trying to turn and stare at him, his mouth agape.

“Stay right there,” Zach tells him, and pats him on one bouncy butt cheek. “I’ll be back. Plug yourself up for me.”

“What?”

Zach says slowly, “It’s really not that difficult, baby. You need to get filled up, ergo you’re _going_ to get filled up. So I don’t want you leaking out what I just put in you. Take your sticky fingers and plug up that hole for me. ”

Chris turns his head to the other side, rising up a little off the bed as he tries to get a better look at Zach’s face. “Are you serious?” Zach’s stony expression seems to convince him, because he shifts his leg up, bending it to give him better access to his ass, and reaches his hand down to re-insert his fingers.

“And don’t go sucking on them,” Zach adds silkily. “Try to resist the temptation for just a minute or two, baby. I’ll have something else for you to suck on soon enough.”

He leaves Chris trying not to fuck himself on his own hand and goes into the bathroom to clean up a little. He leans on the bathroom sink, staring at himself in the mirror. He looks wild. His hair is unkempt. He strips off his clothes now. They don’t seem so necessary any more for his headspace, not now that he’s made Chris really feel it. Admit it. Own it.

A wave of want shades over him, and his cock twitches. Good. He pauses before wiping it down, but in the end he figures he’ll have it back in Chris soon enough, and then if he wants to make Chris clean it off later with his tongue, he can.

There’s always later.

After a euphoric piss, he takes the butt plug from the bathroom cabinet, the one he bought Chris as a gag gift last birthday. They used it once, and then forgot about it. It’s a gaudy pink color, and it has a leather tag hanging from it with _Princess_ printed on it in gold stamped letters.

When he gets back to the bedroom, Chris has gone above and beyond the call of duty, and is fondling his hole.

Zach slaps his hand away.

“Jesus, Chris. This is what I’m talking about,” he says, allowing disappointment to come through. “You literally _just came_ , and the first thing you do afterwards is try to jam your whole fucking hand up your pit. I told you to plug it up, not fist yourself. Although I guess at least you made room for this.”

Chris, who’s snatched his hand away, tries to look behind him, but Zach pushes his face into the bedspread.

“Sluts take whatever is given to them, don’t they?” he asks.

Chris gasps, “Yeah.”

“Tell me.”

“Sluts take whatever is given to them. And—and like it.”

Zach stifles a laugh of surprise. “Good,” he says. “Now spread yourself for me so I can plug you up properly.”

Chris shifts on the bed and sweeps his arms down to bare his hole, pulling his cheeks open. There’s still a sheen of lube around his hole, but Zach adds another dollop to the butt plug before pushing it home slowly. He takes his time, watching the way Chris’s ring stretches around the widest part, and then pauses.

“You like that, baby?”

“Yeah.”

“Looks painful.”

“Yeah, just—just a little.”

“But?”

“But sluts take what they’re given.”

Zach massages around his stretched muscle, adding lube, and prodding the hard silicone under his skin. “And they like it,” he says, and lets Chris’s hole gobble up the plug until the flared base is pressed right up against his skin.

Chris is gabbling quietly. “Yeah. Fuck, yeah. Yeah.”

Zach grabs a handful of the skin where Chris’s ass meets his thigh and twists it. Chris cries out. “I was led to believe you were a Berkeley graduate,” Zach says, and stands up. “And about all you’ve said tonight is _yeah, yeah_. But frankly, baby, you’re never very erudite when you’re getting your snatch filled.” He slaps lightly at Chris’s ballsack, plump and peeking out between his legs, and Chris jerks. “Off the bed. Get on your knees so I can use your other hole while that one’s packed.”

Chris shambles around on the bed awkwardly and slides down to the floor to kneel. Zach tips his face up. It’s flaming red.

“What’s the matter, slut? You can’t be embarrassed. Sluts don’t get embarrassed. You weren’t embarrassed about your behavior tonight, hanging over all those guys at the club. You wouldn’t have been embarrassed to go into the bathroom with one of them, two of them, all of them. Sucking dick in some disgusting stall, kneeling down in piss and God knows what else just because you can’t wait another second to have a cock in you.”

Chris licks his lips, and leans in like he’s sniffing at Zach’s dick. Zach isn’t ready again, not yet, but he’s still thick, and Chris has always loved sucking him hard. He licks his lips again and looks up, like he wants a cue.

“Look at you, baby, you’re drooling for it. Well, what are you waiting for? Get your face on my cock.”

Chris lunges at him and stuffs Zach’s dick down his throat like a starving man. Zach seizes a handful of his hair. He can feel Chris swallowing him down, down, down.

“You’re good enough to go pro,” he murmurs. “I guess if the movie star thing doesn’t work out for you, you’ve got that to fall back on.”

Chris spits out Zach’s cock to give a lewd grin at him. “Yeah? But you said—”

“Don’t worry about what I said,” Zach says, running the head of his dick over Chris’s lips. “Worry about the job in front of you. I can’t fuck you if I’m not hard, can I, and you want me to fuck you. Don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Chris replies, his voice husky. He redoubles his efforts, wrapping his tongue around Zach’s cock and sucking for all he’s worth. He pulls off occasionally to rub his face into it, and the prickling of his stubble is a contrast to the softness of his mouth. He wriggles the tip of his tongue into the slit until he elicits a salty spill, groaning at the taste.

“Okay, baby.”

Chris smirks up at him. “Your slut did pretty well, huh?”

“You’re not _my_ slut, baby. You’re anyone’s slut.” His crestfallen face moves Zach to smear a thumb over Chris’s spit-wet lips and add, “Not mine yet, anyway. Not yet. Back on the bed. Face up.”

Face up so Zach gets to see his expression when the plug is removed. He does it slow and teasing, back and forth watching Chris’s face and watching his asshole give it up. He slathers his own cock with lube while he does it. Multitasking. It’s a skill.

“Your hole must be throbbing, baby. It’s so red. Are you aching yet? Sore?”

“Maybe—maybe just a bit,” Chris says, clenching his teeth. The plug is at its widest point now, and Zach holds it there for a moment.

“Yeah, you look stretched. But that’s what sluts like you want, isn’t it?”

“Uh huh,” Chris says, sounding desperate.

Zach relents, and with a final tug the toy slithers out. He replaces it with his cock immediately. He pulls Chris onto him and glides in with no resistance at all, although Chris accommodates quickly to the smaller fit and clenches down on him. He winds his legs around Zach’s waist and gives a shaky, relieved sigh. His ass is balanced on Zach’s thighs, and the rest of him is spread out across the bed like a pornographic buffet.

The sight of him does, in fact, make Zach salivate. He leans over and spits a long, syrupy string onto Chris’s semi. “Come on, slut, use that to help jack your dick. That’s what you want, isn’t it, to touch yourself again? It’s what you _need_.”

Chris massages the saliva over his length, rolling his cock between his palm and his stomach.

“That’s just playing around with it,” Zach points out, as he starts to fuck into him. “Do what I’m telling you to do, and tug it like you mean it.”

“It’s sensitive,” Chris hisses, and Zach roughly tweaks his nipple. “Ow!”

“ _That’s_ sensitive. Don’t try to tell me that whore cock isn’t anything but insatiable.”

“Maybe if I had some lube…” he says, his eyes sliding away. He catches his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Maybe you should get your dick hard before I decide I’m just going to lock it up in a chastity belt and throw away the key.” Chris shoots his eyes back to Zach’s face then, and his lips part.

“You would do that?” he croaks. “Make me wear…”

“If I can’t get it under control, slut, what other choice will I have?” Zach tells him matter-of-factly, and thrusts again. “I need to tame you somehow, baby, don’t I?”

“Yeah,” Chris breathes, and suddenly he’s pulling at his cock with less reluctance. “Yeah, you do.”

“I’m so glad you see things my way.”

“Yeah. A slut like me, I need taming.” He’s thumbing at his own slit to encourage his pre-come and wriggling around on Zach’s cock like he’s impaled on pure pleasure.

Zach shifts, leans over him, hooking his arms under Chris’s knees and pushing them back. “Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m starting to think you get off on being called a slut.”

“Uh.” Chris looks like he can’t decide what to say, but he’s still jacking himself and doing what he can to fuck himself on Zach’s dick. Not much, in his current position, folded just about in two.

“We can’t have that, can we?” Zach murmurs, and rolls his hips.

“Uh. No.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause…sluts are…they’re not…”

Zach really pushes Chris now, forces his legs down so his thighs are spread against his torso and his heels are in the vicinity of his ears. If only Chris did yoga, Zach thinks idly. He really could bend Chris in half then.

But he’s close enough to Chris’s face to do what he wants to do, which is watch it change when he says, “Because I don’t want to fuck a used-up, reamed-out little slut hole. That’s why not.”

Chris swallows, and his eyes get damp. He looks away, flushing. “Yeah,” he says. “No. I get it. Yeah.”

“Yeah, no, yeah?” Zach taunts. “How about you just concentrate on emptying out a load for now? One lesson at a time, baby. Come on. Work yourself over, you know you wanna shoot.”

Zach straightens up and kneels, lifting Chris’s weight all on his shoulders. “Up. Keep going. I want you to have a perfect view of that cock of yours.”

Chris’s rolled over on himself like a seashell, except for his legs splayed out where Zach’s holding them apart at the ankles to take his fucking. He’s swaying to the force of Zach’s thrusts. Zach takes a hot second to be impressed by his own stamina. He’s not as sensitive as he was the first time, and when he gets like this he has great endurance. He can stay hard and fuck for hours. For as long as it takes.

Zach pulls Chris’s legs closer, gripping Chris’s ankles and rubbing his cheek against the delicate bones. He looks down at Chris’s face. It seems a long way away, down past the point where Zach’s cock is disappearing into his reddened hole, past his fat, trembling ballsack, past Chris’s hand on his own meat. He’s sliding along his length with the tips of his fingers, but hard, like he’s working out the last of the toothpaste.

“You close?” he asks and Chris grunts an affirmative. “You watching that cock?”

“Yeah,” Chris says, his voice strained with effort.

“Blow on your face.”

Chris gasps, and his hole contracts around Zach’s cock. “No,” he whines.

“Oh, yeah. You’re going to. And you’re going to aim at your mouth so you find out what whore tastes like.”

Chris screws up his nose. “Please. Don’t make me, please.”

“Yes, baby, yes. Come on. Show me what a slut you are, mess up your pretty face for me.” Zach plunges into him as far as he can, and runs a thumb firmly over his taint, slick with the lube dripping out of his hole.

Chris makes an agonized noise and comes, spattering his face and trying his best to catch it on his tongue. His limbs go pliant and loose, and Zach pulls out of his ass. “Beautiful, baby,” he breathes, and helps Chris uncurl a little, enough so he can get a solid lungful of air into him. Zach reaches up to collect some of the splatters and then, holding up the butt plug so Chris can see it, he coats it with Chris’s own spunk.

“No, no, no,” Chris pleads, reaching out piteously.

“Yes, yes, yes, baby. Yes. We gotta fill up that ravenous hole of yours, and I’m just one man. I can’t do it alone. And every little bit helps, right?”

Chris lets his arm fall back across his eyes, and takes a slow, quaking breath. “Yeah,” he says.

“So you’re going to take it, aren’t you, and you’re going to say thank you.”

“Yeah.”

“And why’s that, baby?”

“’Cause sluts take what they’re given.

Zach pets the rim of his hole approvingly. “You’re pretty loose, so this should go in easy.” It does, the widest part of it swallowed up so fast Zach couldn’t even have teased Chris if he’d wanted to. “What do you say?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, slut. Now go clean up your filthy face.”

Zach takes the time alone to stretch and relax on the bed. Chris is fast, though, and he’s back before Zach really thinks through what he wants to do next. His dick is still nicely filled out, waiting on his thigh, and Chris is eyeing it when he stops by the bed, uncertain. He kneels down like he’s going to say his prayers.

“You want your face fucked again?” Zach asks. “You want to stuff your throat with cock?”

“It’s kinda…” Chris makes a sheepish gesture, and Zach sits up, swings his legs to the floor, a foot on either side of him, cock inescapably in his line of sight.

“What’s kinda what?”

“Your dick. It’s been, you know.”

“Fucking you silly.”

“Yeah.”

“I spend all that time rutting in that loose hole just because you need it, and now you think you’re too good to taste your own ass, slut?”

Chris, predictably, goes bright red, right to the tips of his ears, and drops his eyes.

“Well, you know what?” Zach grabs his chin and makes him look up. “ _Maybe_ there’s some hope for you. Maybe this is a sign that you’re starting to learn. Go get a washcloth and wipe me down.”

Chris looks inordinately relieved, and darts back to the bathroom. He cleans Zach’s cock meticulously with a warm, wet cloth, and then nuzzles his face against it. Zach runs a hand over his hair, and Chris looks up at him, a smile creasing his eyes.

“You look tired,” Zach says, “and you have a lot of fucking to go, baby. But you’ll take it, won’t you? You still want it.”

“Yeah.”

Zach reaches over for the lube and presses it into Chris’s hand. “Get yourself hard again.”

Chris looks down at the lube and up again at Zach. “I can’t.”

“Don’t tell me ‘can’t’, you whore. I know you can, and you _will_.”

“Please…”

Zach touches a finger under Chris’s chin and tips his face up. “Whose little slut are you?”

“Yours,” Chris says, and he starts to get teary. “Yours, Zach.” It sounds like an accusation. “But I can’t.”

“If you’re mine, show me.” Chris sways forward, like he’s overwhelmed. “Show me you’re my whore. You can get it up for anyone else who wants you. You think I didn’t notice you rubbing yourself on other guys tonight, grinding up against them? And now you’re claiming limp dick. No way, baby. When I tell you to get that gluttonous cock of yours nice and firm, you do it.”

Chris takes a deep breath and begins to squeeze at his dick. He frowns, his brows drawing in together and creasing like he’s in pain. And maybe he is, Zach thinks. He must be tender, not to mention exhausted. But he has to learn.

“So tell me, baby, what’s it like to need your hole filled up so much that you roll over and spread for anyone? Don’t you ever get tired of being pounded? Oh, no. Of course not. Sluts like you can take it for hours and hours.”

“Yeah,” he gasps, and there’s definitely some interest showing now. His dick is getting fatter in his hand. He groans. “Can you keep…”

“Can I keep what?”

“Talking. Please.”

Zach slides down to kneel with him, and pulls him in to kiss. “Of course, baby. That’s what you think I’m here for, isn’t it?” He palms Chris’s balls. They’re hot and sticky. “Someone to get you excited, get that cock dripping. Someone to fuck your hungry asshole and treat you like you want to be treated.” Chris wants to suck on his tongue, and Zach lets him. For a moment. “How do you think your behavior reflects on me, slut? How do you think I feel when people are whispering about how I can’t keep your ass under control?”

“No, no,” Chris whines, teary again, but his hand doesn’t falter on his dick. “They don’t. They know I’m yours.”

Zach cups his face and kisses him tenderly. “What they know,” he says softly, “is that you’re a shameless slut who spends half his time offering his hole to anyone who’ll take it, and the other half on his knees. Just like you are now. Right?”

“Right,” Chris grunts. Zach looks down between them. Chris’s cock is flushed and glistening, the head a deep red color. It looks almost puffy, like all the action its seen tonight has been too much for it.

“You about ready to blast?”

“Yeah.” His face is red, too, with the effort, and wet with sweat. Zach rubs at his balls again and then, pulling back a little so he can see the effect, flicks Chris’s dick firm and hard, right on the slit.

“Fuck!” Chris snaps, and instinctively pulls away. But Zach is ready for it, and grabs him by the back of the neck.

“Don’t act like you don’t like it,” he says.

“Motherfucker,” Chris mutters, and starts working his cock again. His hair is all messed up. Zach slides a hand into it, and grips a handful. “Ah!” Chris yelps, and screws his face up.

“What did you call me?”

“Nothing, nothing.” Zach tugs his hair again. “ _Ow!_ Fuck, I’m sorry!”

“Oh, come on, slut. You love it when someone gets a grip on you like this.” Zach lets go then, and Chris makes a disappointed noise. “See, baby? But don’t worry. I’m gonna make you hurt like that later. Right now you need to look at what you’re doing. I want you to fill up my hand. That’s right, yeah, aim into it.”

With the hand not flogging his cock, Chris grabs Zach by the shoulder for balance. They’re forehead to forehead, watching the show between them: Chris working his slick-tipped, abused dick until it starts to spurt. He sobs when the first spray finally comes, like it’s a relief to finish, and then the sobs turn into long, surprised, “Ohhhs” of satisfaction as he pumps himself into Zach’s cupped, waiting hand.

When he’s done, he gives a chuckle and kisses Zach again, panting into his mouth.

“That’s my good slut,” Zach murmurs, and Chris is laughing, nodding his agreement. “Now ass in the air and unplug yourself. Can’t let this go to waste.”

“Za-aach,” Chris whines, and winces as Zach grips his hair again.

“You need to learn your lesson,” he says calmly. “Ass in the air. Unplug yourself. And after I’ve made this deposit you can say thank you.”

Chris bites his lip, and gives one small nod.

“And why?” Zach asks.

Chris mumbles, “Because sluts take what they’re given, and they like it.” Zach releases his hair, and Chris slowly repositions himself on the floor, head down and butt high, his legs on either side of Zach.

And he waits.

Zach slaps lightly at his balls, and Chris cries out. “What did I say? I told _you_ to unplug yourself.”

Chris reaches back stiffly to find the butt plug, and works it free. He hisses as it comes out.

“You poor baby,” Zach says, and smiles. Chris’s asshole looks red and painful, but still shines with lube. It’s wider than Zach has ever seen it before, not clenching back shut like it usually does after a fuck. It’s gorgeous. “Here we are,” he continues. “Another load to help fill up that bottomless pit.” He smears his jizz-filled hand over Chris’s hole, pushing in as much as he can, and then adding three fingers to help thrust it further in. “Not quite as difficult as getting toothpaste back in the tube,” he murmurs. “Not when you’re nice and loose like this. Your slut hole really wants this, baby, doesn’t it?”

Chris moans a yes.

“But still, it’s messy. Let me clean that up for you,” Zach says, and closes his lips over Chris’s asshole before he can even reply. Chris keens at the sensation, pushing back onto Zach’s tongue and wriggling brazenly.

Slut. _Presumptuous_ slut.

But Zach keeps eating him out anyway; it’s making his own dick throb as he does it, and he needs to get hard again. He can taste Chris’s cum, and his own, and the bland non-flavor of the lube, and sweat. “You taste like desperation, baby. Did you know that? I guess you did. A nasty slut like you would definitely have tasted his own ass before now, even if he pretends he doesn’t like the idea of sucking it off my dick.”

Chris is begging now, pleading with Zach to “—do—do _something_ , goddammit—”

“See? Still not satisfied,” Zach says, and bites into the full, tempting flesh of Chris’s asscheek. “Baby, you are one insatiable, dirty little whore. I guess it’s my own fault; I sucked out some of that juice stored up inside you. What can I do to replace it…” He clears his throat. “Oh, _I_ know.” He makes the unmistakable noise of someone working up a spitball, and Chris gives a full-body shudder. Zach holds his hole open and spits straight into it. “That’ll have to do, slut. For now.”

Zach retrieves the butt plug from where Chris has let it roll away on the carpet. “You just stay like that,” he tells Chris, and washes off the plug in the bathroom sink. When he comes back, Chris has his face pushed into his inner-elbow, ass obediently still as high in the air as ever.

Zach replaces the plug and slaps his ass. “What do you say?”

“Thank you.”

“Up. Suck me hard again.”

Chris is back on his knees in an instant, attending to Zach’s dick. Zach seats himself on the edge of the bed and leans back on his arms. “I’ve done enough for now, baby. Time for you to put that mouth to work.”

For a long time after the first movie, Zach teased Chris with his Kirk line about having a talented tongue. But it wasn’t without cause; Chris is an expert cocksucker, eager and greedy, humming his pleasure as he swallows down Zach’s semi into this throat. Chris doesn’t forget about his balls, either, taking them into a wide, relaxed mouth and sucking on them while he jacks Zach’s dick.

It doesn’t take too long for Zach to get hard again. When he does, he grasps a handful of hair on either side of Chris’s head. “You want your face fucked?”

“Yeah,” Chris gasps out, and his jaw goes slack and ready.

“Take it,” Zach spits out, and shoves into his mouth.

He yanks Chris’s face down by his hair, not even trying to be gentle, but Chris does indeed take it, and takes it beautifully. His eyes are leaking tears and he’s drooling all over the place, but he makes no resistance at all to the cock hitting the back of his throat. Even when he chokes and coughs, he doesn’t try to pull away, just does his best to catch his breath with a dick plowing in and out of his mouth. He even moans a protest when Zach pulls out.

“No, baby. Remember, you need to get that ass filled up to the brim, just the way you like it. So get up here and let me spill in it.”

Chris climbs up on the bed. His knees look chafed and sore now, but nothing compared to his asshole. He hisses when Zach begins to take the plug out, not because of the size of it, but just because his hole is so raw. But Zach takes his time, inching it out until Chris is begging for him to hurry.

“No, baby, no. Can’t do that. Don’t wanna yank it out and have you pop like champagne, oh no. Not after all the trouble I’ve gone to. God, I’m so good to you, aren’t I, filling you up with such a fine vintage. What do you think, slut, should I just leave you corked and let it age for a while?”

The only response is a pitiful moan.

Finally the plug is out, and Chris’s hole is pulsing as he tries to clench it shut.

“God, look at that rosy red asshole, quivering for me. Looks like it’d suck me almost as good as your mouth. You ready for a deep dicking?”

Chris pants, “Yeah, do it. Fuck me. Please, Zach, please.”

Slut. God, such an exquisite little slut. Zach feels a wave of affection wash over him so deeply that it makes his eyes sting. He plunges in before it passes, balls deep and fuck, he’d cram those in there too if he could. They’d probably even fit; Chris is so stretched right now. But he’s desperate to come now, and they can try that some other time. He’s definitely going to use the plug more often; can’t think why he never did before.

“Give me my phone,” he says, sinking his fingers into Chris’s luscious, voluptuous ass.

“What?”

“Pass my fucking phone over.”

Chris doesn’t even ask, he just stretches and scrabbles on the bedside table till he finds Zach’s phone, and holds it over his shoulder. Zach is close now, so close, but he takes a few seconds to open the video function—he’ll worry about sticky fingerprints all over it later—and starts filming his fucking.

“This way—you’ll have—a reminder,” he grunts, driving three powerful thrusts into Chris’s channel. He makes sure to keep filming even as his orgasm hits him, slashing through him like a whip and stinging like one too. He empties himself into Chris, words flowing out with his spunk, calling Chris names, telling him what he is—

“—goddamn dirty cocksucking whore—you nasty little fuckhole—oh God, you slut—you slut—you filthy fucking _slut_ —”

When he’s done, he pulls out, and he aims the camera at Chris’s asshole. “You are _wrecked_ , baby,” Zach breathes. “So fucked out.” Chris’s hole is wide and wet and open, and the camera even picks up white pearls of Zach’s load inside him—at least Zach _thinks_ it’s his. “Can’t even tell where that came from, baby, you’re so stuffed full of it.”

Chris chokes out an “Oh, God. Show me,” and Zach stops the video, and leans over Chris to put it next to his nose.

“See?” He replays it and the sound and sight of their fucking fills the room again, Zach’s string of filthy talk making Chris groan again. He whimpers when he sees his hole afterwards, so red and battered, but he’s still writhing around in the same ass-up position.

“Oh, baby, are you still not done? You wanna come again?” Zach reaches behind Chris to grasp his dick, and Jesus H. Christ, the slut really is hard again. He sighs and starts to work Chris in earnest. “Come on, then, out with it.”

He replays the video for Chris while pulling at his cock, and Chris’s moans sound like he’s genuinely in pain. After a moment, he tenses all through his body and makes a stifled sobbing noise, his dick pulsing in Zach’s hand. But nothing comes out.

“Finally dry,” Zach murmurs, and nuzzles into the back of Chris’s neck. “I finally milked your balls dry, baby. And what a fucking effort it’s been.”

“I’m sorry,” Chris says, and he sounds on the edge of genuine tears, shattered and exhausted. “I’m sorry, you’re right, I’m a total slut and you deserve—”

“I love you, baby,” Zach interrupts, and makes a soothing noise in his ear. “Shhh. I love you slutty like that. God help me, I even like watching you hang over other guys and tease them and make them think they have a shot. ’Cause I know they don’t. I know you’re mine. My whore, my perfect little slut. And every time I see you acting like a cocktease I’m going to think about this video, about that one night I finally fucked you into oblivion. And you’re gonna think about it too, and remember that your ass is mine, and your mouth is mine, and that I can fill them any time I want to. However I want to. You got that?”

Chris nods, and even smiles. Zach licks up the side of his face, and they lie together, silent.

“I’m gross,” Chris complains presently. “And leaking.”

“Yeah. You need to get yourself all flushed out. There’s a douche in the medicine cabinet. Go use it.”

“You...don’t want me plugged overnight?” Chris suggests, tentative. "Vintage champagne and all that?"

“Tempting. But I don’t think that would end well,” Zach says ruefully. “Go on, now. Get set up and I’ll come watch you.”

Chris grins, his eyes sparkling again. “Hell yeah,” he says. “You wanna help me? Squeeze the bag for me? Clean out my slut hole to your liking?”

Zach _mmmms_ , long and low. “Yeah,” he says. “Let’s do that. Slut.”

Chris slides off the bed and stands, stretches, confident and secure in his body even with something suspect sliding down his inner thigh. He looks down at Zach. “Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“I _do_ get off on you calling me a slut. And I’m starting to think you get off on it too.” With a wink and a lascivious grin, he saunters off to the bathroom.


End file.
